M O N S T E R
by Astriferous Fox
Summary: I was always the inferior sibling for some reason. I'd never be good enough in their eyes. It took me awhile to realize this. But when I did...a monster was born in the ashes of my old self and NightClan would never be the same. I'd never be the same. Rated T for blood, cursing and adult-ish themes. Rating will probably might raise later on.
1. Prologue and Allegiances

**_MONSTER_**

**_Prologue/ Allegiances_**

**_A Warriors FanFiction_**

**_Rated T for death, blood, curses and eventually gore. Rating might rise to M._**

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><p><strong><em>Author's Note:<em>**

**_Hello, Sweet Arcadia here. This is one of my older fics that I really wanted to work on so bad and now that I can, I'm really happy to work on it once more. I've never got to work on angst and death stuff before so new territory is always fun to touch._**

**_But anyway, this is a rewrite of the original and it will have several changes probs. Anyhow, I don't own Warriors just my characters and the plot._**

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><p>Red.<p>

I was so familiar with the color in so many different ways. Red was engraved in my memories, red was soaked into my paws and flowed on the ground. Red berries, red skies, red moons, red liquid, red hearts, red bodies. Red, red, red. A sickly chuckle escaped my throat as I thought about. As I ran from it.

Red was lapping at my pads, red was eating at the life around me, the trees, the earth, the birds, even the cats here. Nothing could escape from the red. It was ate everything around it. It was terribly hot. I learned that the hard way. It dripped like dew from icicle from the branch above me onto my shoulder. It quickly made way of my fur and into my skin. "**Fuck!" **I yowled, dropping to the ground to ride of the burning sensation. I manage to get rid it but red dripped from the remains. _Drip, drop._

_Tick, tock. I'm running out of time._

I ignored the red and continued to run, determined to live. I had to live.

_"You don't deserve to live, you_ _**monster!**__"_

They had never been so correct however. How could I desire life myself when I had taken it so many times? How could they desire life when they had mistreated it so many times? The internal conflict of this problem inside had been eating me alive for years. Eating me like red that devoured the forest.

_Red, red, red...Thornfang isn't that your favorite color? It should be by now. You've seen it so many times. I'm sorry but monsters can't have a favorite color. Or conscious thought at that. Or life maybe? Do we even have red? Do we have blood or fire in our veins? Maybe I have both._

My pad were dripping with blood, the embers of the forest floor were unforgiving like the spirits of the ones I had killed. I fell onto the hot floor, unable to continue because I kept slipping on the red. The fire roared around me and I could faintly hear the cry of cats calling to each other in the blaze. The air was thick with pungent smoke. It burned at my lungs. It was burning at my mind. _It was eating me whole._

I cried out in anguish. How could I not feel remorse for what I have done? How could a monster like me not feel sorry for the ones I've killed?! Thought raced through my head as the smoke increased. I could no longer feel the strength to move. My mind, or what was left of it, started to fade away.

The world on fire around me faded away.

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><p><strong><span><em>NightClan<em>**

_**Leader:**_

Hawkstar - A brown, broad tabby tom with dark, noticeable stripes with bright amber eyes. Mate to Brighteyes.

_**Deputy:**_

Whitewhisker - A gray tom with bright silver whiskers and yellow eyes.

_**Medicine Cat:**_

Nightfrost - A black she-cat with snow white paws and a white dash on her forehead, blue eyes.

_**Warriors:**_

Clawheart - A large cream tom with dark brown stripes and amber eyes. Mentor to Fluffypaw.

One-ear - One-eared ginger tabby tom with green eyes. Mate to Thrushfeathers.

Stormslash - Large grey tom with silver stripes with blue eyes. Mentor to Swiftpaw.

Oakclaw - Brown tom with ginger and black stripes with green eyes. Mate to Grassfoot.

Grassfoot - Silver she-cat with bright green eyes and a feathery tail. Mate to Oakclaw.

Thrushfeathers - Black and brown striped she-cat with pale yellow eyes. Mate to One-ear.

Brighteyes - Black furry she-cat with bright green eyes. Mate to Hawkstar.

Ferretstep - Lanky, wiry brown tom with dark green eyes. Mate to Silverdash.

Flamerush - Young red and orange tom with dark blue eyes. Once a rouge.

_**Apprentices:**_

Fluffypaw - Brown, ginger and black fluffy she-cat with bright yellow eyes.

Swiftpaw - Brown and ginger mottled she-cat with fiery green eyes.

**_Queens:_**

Silverdash - Silky sliver she-cat with liquid blue eyes. Mate to Ratheart. Kits are Dusk-kit and Thornkit.

_**Kits:**_

Dusk-kit - Brown and black striped tom with light blue eyes.

Thornkit - Brown tabby tom with vivid aqua eyes.

_**Elders:**_

Sundrop - Bright ginger she-cat with green eyes.

Darkcloud - Black tom with white paws and green eyes.

Berrystomp - Cream and white flecked tom with yellows eyes.

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><p><em><strong>That was killer to write. I can't wait to write chapter two~! Review and stuff and give me your opinions, critic and thoughts please!<strong>_


	2. Chapter One

_**MONSTER**_

_**Chapter One**_

_**A Warriors FanFiction**_

_**Rated T for death, blood, curses and eventually gore. Rating might rise to M.**_

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note:<strong>_

_**Oh gosh. I haven't updated this in a long time. No worries however. is not being **_**_abandoned, I just haven't found the time to work on it. I'm going to put little poems and stories at the end of each chapter to explain their Clan Lore. You'll see._**

**_(1) = he means rusty nails_**

**_I don't own Warriors and any other thing that might get mentioned._**

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><p>I can still remember my first night in this world. Though the memory is old and faint, it's well kept.<p>

I can remember my birth. The cacophony of discord and discomfort. A lingering tang of blood, a scent that could be compared to the old and crimson silvers of stone _**(1)**_that were impaled stiffly on the ruins of the Twoleg den. I recall the forced cries of my sweet mother as my sibling and I brought her pain and the sharp inhale of my first breath as she gave us life.

A few heartbeats after I had become accustomed to the life-long task of breathing, I began to wail my distress to the ears of those around me. The warmth from my mother was not near and neither was my brother. Where was he? Why had we been separated?

Eventually, my questions had been satisfied when someone brought me near what I could only assume was the belly of my mother and my brother soon joined me. My mother's coarse yet soothing tongue began to smooth my new pelt and I mewled softly as she rid me of the slimy and sticky remains of birth.

The lulling sound of her grooming and the comfort it brought nearly made me fall asleep. But my hunger for food kept me awake. However, my mother provided for me yet again. She gave me sweet and silky milk from the nubs on her belly and I was determined to get as much as possible before my brother could take from me. During this time of feeding, my mother cleaned my brother and hummed us a delightful lullaby as she busied herself over us.

I soon fell asleep to the warmth of my family. I eventually awoke to twittering noises of creatures unknown and chatter from what I could only assume was those of my own kind. It felt warmer than it had been when I was last awake. I felt my brother next to me, his body rising and lowering itself in a steady and comforting pace. The noise of the morning activities around me and the warmth my brother gave soon lulled me to sleep again.

My first few days were spent exactly like this. Rinse, wash and repeat. Until a day that was completely different however. It was the day our father had visited us for the first time. It was a little time after sunhigh and Mother had just finished lapping us down with her rough yet gentle tongue. She was purring to us and the rumbles from her stomach were lulling me to sleep. They stopped rather abruptly when the leaves from the entrance began to rustle and someone entered the den.

"Ferretstep! You've finally gotten off of your furry rump and visited me and the kits!" My mother taunted in a playful tone. The tom, who I assumed to be my father, or Ferretstep padded over to the she-cat and affectionately butted heads with her.

"Silverdash," He began in the same mocking tone, "I've been busy with rogues and such, so please accept my sincerest apologies. I did not mean to miss the birth of our kits.

"I know," she spoke, "Please learn to take a joke, darling." Ferretstep huffed and she laughed at him. I would later learn that my father was often the one called 'a stick in the mud' for his sophisticated attitude. But my mother, who was a charismatic and lively she-cat, adored him anyway.

"So these are the kits?" He said, lowering down to get a closer look at. His warm exhales of air blew over my small form.

"Actually, they're DayClan kits I stole. Aren't they wonderful?" She teased and began to laugh at my father's impassive expression. She finished laughing and gently swept her feather like tail on the floor.

"Yes, this is them. Two beautiful toms straight from the Heavens themselves. Say hello." She spoke now in a more mellow voice. Apparently, the need to taunt her mate was satisfied.

"Have you picked names for them yet?"

"No, I was waiting for you to return from battle. I had no idea if you would make it or not so I waited. I'm happy I did."

"You should know by now that none of those dirty cult kittypets could defeat me," He boasted, "But now since I'm here, we're going to name them."

There was a moment of silence between the two and the only noise I could hear was the chatter of the cats in the camp clearing. I had almost fallen asleep before my mother spoke and I was wide awake once more.

"The tabby is kind of small, huh? Do you think he'll make it?" She spoke in a nonchalant tone. My fur bristled sightly though I could bet it was hardly noticeably. What was that supposed to mean? Wasn't I just a kit, wasn't I supposed to be small? What did size have to do with my survival? I attempted to hold back my hurt feelings as much as I could which wasn't alot for a kit.

"He'll grow, Silverdash," Ferretstep reassured, "Don't worry. Don't you think his little tabby stripes are cute?"

If he was trying to distract my mother, it must have worked because of the next thing that fell out of her mouth.

"Oh yeah! They look like little thorns! How cute!" Silverdash practically purred with excitement.

"How about Thornkit then?" He suggested.

"Because when he gets older, he'll probably become a thorn in my side, right?" She jaunted at him. My father sighed and muttered a halfhearted agreement. Once again, she laughed at him.

"Let's name him Dusk-kit then," Silverdash purred, "After Duskstar, your mother."

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><p><em>There's a belief in the Clans of Night, Day, and Sky,<em>

_That once you given a kit their name,_

_You can kiss their fate goodbye,_

_Each has a predestined game,_

_Good or bad won't matter when death is nearby._


End file.
